Split
by Severed Glass
Summary: I'm scared, so scared of my next move, if the foot I put down will be my last and my other half's first, I'm scared that next time I blink, it won't be my eyes you see, but those of the other me. AU NeijGaa rating may rise
1. Missing Time

Hey, I got this idea and couldn't help but write it, please forgive me for not quite finishing my other fics yet . . . but anyways, I've done some research on Dissociate Identity Disorder (the fancy name for what most of us call "split personality") and I'm going to try to make this as accurate as I can. I find this stuff to be really interesting . . . does that make me a horrible person?

Disclaimer: No own jutsu!

**-s-p-l-i-t-**

**C-h-a-p-t-e-r O****-n-e**

Blue bore into green, the white behind their blue outlines empty and hollow connecting an understanding of sadness through the two dimensional prison through to the barren green eyes into which they stared. A pale hand ran over the white paper, tracing the blue lines of the portrait he had no memory of creating. His fingers traced her blue pencil lips, no smile played at the corners. Running over the paper, the pale fingers made it to her eyes. The eyes said so much more than mouth, the sadness unbearable, yet the stubbornness held behind the blue walls never allowed a single tear to fall. Green orbs followed the line of her face, the blue hair in pigtails, trying to emit a spark of joy contrasting the constricted tears.

He had drawn Temari again.

He pushed the chair out from under him as he stood up, stretching, towering over the small wooden desk below him. Working out the kinks from his legs, he realized that he must have been sitting for a long time, but he didn't remember when he started, not that he expected to. The slight glow that illuminated from behind the dark curtains was not bright enough to be from the sun, it must have come from a streetlight. He stood up and turned around to face his bed on the other side of the room. Around the unwrinkled sheets and folded covers, he saw the green flash of his alarm clock: 3:30 AM.

A low rumble escaped his stomach, when was the last time he had eaten? He couldn't remember. Looking down at his shirtless figure, he winced as he could see multiple ribs poking out from behind his pale skin, but more enticing than that a large yellow bruise was forming on his side. He didn't want to know where that had come from.

Limping his way over to his dresser, he dug through the wrinkled clothing that hung from open drawers and after a few seconds of searching, he found a simple black one with long sleeves. Raising it over his head, watching for any bruises or cuts that had formed on his arms and chest, he slipped the shirt over his head. Looking in the mirror, he held back a chuckle as he realized that the shirt was big enough to swallow him whole. He turned from his reflection, but not before he noticed something that drew him back. Raising a hand to his forehead, he brushed the crimson hair off of his pale forehead to reveal some sort of tattoo. He traced the bright red kanji that he had never seen before.

_Love._

How he knew that, he had no idea. It was as though he had been told. His hand fell from the tattoo he never remembered getting and to the dark circles under his eyes. Playing with the dark area, running his finger across the lines under his eyes, he noted that he needed to get more sleep, yet sleep wouldn't come for him. He used to lay in bed for hours, dreading the nightmares that would come, engulf him, and make him who he was not.

Sighing and dropping his hand to his side, he turned from his reflection and towards the door. He turned the handle, dread filling him as he realized that he would be leaving his only sanctuary. He shook the feeling off and winced as a creak came from the door hinges. Shutting the door behind him, he stepped with care and silence of a cat as to not disturb his roommate who was snoring on the couch with the silent television screen illuminating his sleeping form.

Grabbing the remote, he turned off the T.V. realizing that Animal Planet had a special on dogs. No wonder the dog lover had stayed up. He walked over to the small kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Seeing the bare shelves, he closed the door and looked up at the cereal cabinet. There was one box of lucky charms. He hated that cereal. Noticing how low they were on any type of food at all, he grabbed twenty dollars from the cookie jar where they kept grocery money and slipped on his shoes.

Once again, he felt the discomfort of leaving a place safe, but shrugged it off as he exited the small apartment. He trudged down the hall and to the elevator, the small space encompassing him, creating a sense of comfort. As a bell rang to let him out, a shiver ran down his spine as he set foot into the darkness.

A sigh escaped his mouth and he stuffed his hands into his pockets. The store was about a mile down and no one was in sight. The light from the streetlamps illuminated the road and surrounding sidewalks. He stared at the cracked concrete as his feet moved without his knowing, seemingly studying every plant that grew up through the small crevasses, yet his eyes were looking somewhere else. Somewhere far from this world, a place he wished to be.

_If only._

He hadn't heard other people, footsteps or voices. He had been too caught up his fantasized reality. Someone pushed on his shoulders and his hands leapt to his face without his realization. He raised his eyes as he heard laughter. Taken aback, he noticed that five people now surrounded him. From the smiles on their lips and the knives in their hands, he knew nothing good would come from this. He only picked up a few of their words, threats for money and bodily harm. But that wasn't important, he was being threatened, he couldn't control himself while threats were lashed out at him.

As they closed the circle around him, he raised his hands to his head, fingers intertwining with his crimson hair. He looked up at them with pleading eyes, begging them to leave him alone, to just let him continue on his way.

"Please, go! Leave me alone! I don't want to hurt you!" His voice was raspy and cracked as he talked from not being used for what could have been days.

The laughing from the crowd echoed in his ears and as they came closer, he begged again. A force collided with his jaw, sending him flying backwards as blackness rimmed his vision.

Like a bullet at midnight, it swept through him: unforeseen, clear, excruciating. The laughing echoing in his ears was now his own.

**-s-p-l-i-t –**

The sun had risen in the early morning sky. He blinked in confusion as he stared at brown wood. It took a minute for him to gather his bearings and realize that he was staring at the front door of his apartment. His eyes widened as he tried to remember what happened. All he remembered before he blacked out was that he had been about to be mugged by a group of guys. He said a silent prayer for them to be alright, but there was no way of him knowing.

He turned the doorknob and let himself into the unlocked apartment. He was welcomed with the startled look of his room mate, Kiba, who was sitting at the small table eating Lucky Charms and watching Animal Planet.

"Holy shit, dude! What happened to you?" He stood up, forgetting his bowl of cereal. He ran up to the cabinet where they kept the first aid kit and pulled it down. Opening it up, he pulled out the peroxide and band-aids.

The redhead didn't answer, instead he took the time to look at what had shocked Kiba so much. He looked down to see blood covering his shirt and pants. His clothes were torn and his knuckles dripping blood. He remembered the punch and didn't want to think about how his face would look.

"Damn it, Gaara, and you have that interview today." Kiba took a wet rag and started to wipe off his face. The boy flinched, but didn't attempt to move away. "You need that job, I can't pay rent by myself."

He pulled off his shirt, revealing cuts and bruises scattering his this figure, he grabbed a rag and some peroxide to help clean the wounds he never remembered receiving.

"Anything really bad, Gaara?"

He didn't answer, just stared at the wounds he was cleaning.

"Gaara? Gaara? Gaara!" Kiba shook him out of his reverie.

The boy's green eyes bore into the dog lover's. Gaara? Who was Gaara? The boy with missing time.

**s-p-l-i-t**

well, that's it for chapter one . . . I wanted to make it longer, but I thought this was a great time to stop. I hope to have the second chapter longer and out soon. So until then . . .

**www. Insidious Reflections .com**


	2. I bet

I love you all who reviewed wipes away tear it made me feel all specialful

I'M REALLY SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET OUT! I'm sure you've all heard it before, but I have an excuse! Right now, as I write this, I'm outta town, with no internet. I was going to post this before I left, but my internet freaked out (which, for once, is not my fault, Charter has to come and replace everything, but before that, the appointment has to be rescheduled . . .) and so I tried to steal my neighbor's internet, but he locked it up! And we were leaving so fast that I never got a chance to call and ask wtf was going on with that . . . So I figured that there's free internet in the airport, last time we traveled there was . . . but apparently our local airport doesn't have free wireless. Then I come up here to Washington State to find that the lodge that we are staying in is so very old fashioned, I wouldn't have been surprised to have heard one of the (all foreign) workers asked me "what be 'internet'?" and so we find me now, sitting here, typing this little rant to the word processor realizing how stupid this must sound with no one on the receiving end . . .

Disclaimer: I own nothing . . .

**-s-p-l-i-t-**

**Chapter Two**

Frowning at the image of a boy dressed in a green button up dress shirt three sizes to big for him and black pants that the belt was the miracle that kept them from falling, a futile attempt was made to cover the crimson tattoo with short red hair. He had done his best to look good, yet not much could be done without money to buy nice clothes, the ones he had on he had borrowed from Kiba. Clothes weren't all of it, though, he noted the dark circles under his eyes, the tattoo and his scrawny form were beyond his control. Raising a hand to hide the tattoo again, his hand stopped in mid movement as he stared at the crimson soaking through the white cloth.

Oh, yes, he was beyond hope. No one in their right mind would hire this pathetic looking soul.

Sighing and backing away from his reflection in the car window, he headed to the door under the sign "L. A. Books". Upon walking inside, he found that he could breathe easier among the towers of books. He loved bookstores and libraries, they had been his sanctuary for years from the horrors of home.

Walking to the desk and being directed to a lady in a blue suit, he met her bright blue orbs and he almost stepped back from the shocking brightness exhibited in them. He watched as a questioning gaze filled her eyes which turned to understanding and then to pity – a look he had seen too many times before. It took approximately seven seconds for a person to get an impression – a final impression, not a first. He knew what hers was, and he only hoped it could be changed, maybe he had a few seconds left . . .

**:o:**

Mailbag slung over his shoulder and across his chest, camera dangling from his neck, and Kiba's dress clothes long since discarded, Gaara trudged down the street. His eyes were locked to his feet, even if he knew they were there, he didn't want to see the stares that were pointed in his direction. The pressure of people sending looks due to the worn out clothes and baggage that made him look like a bum, or those who saw the dark circles under his eyes and the tattoo, made him want to crumble and disappear, though his beacon of red hair wouldn't allow him to.

Admiring every crack in the sidewalk or weed that grew between the blocks, he apologized as he occasionally bumped into people on the crowded street, hands in his pockets to keep him from raising his hands to protect his face every time he came in contact with another human. It was times like these he really wished he could afford some kind of motorized vehicle, for just walking three blocks to the park was pure torture.

A gasp escaped his mouth and he toppled forward from the force applied to his shoulder. Tripping over his feet and grasping for his camera that slung around his neck, coming dangerously close to the ground, he had lost all sense of balance and would have made a head-on collision with the concrete had someone not grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him into their chest.

Gaara bit back a scream and pushed away from the deeply rising and falling chest and thundering heart beat. The large hands grabbed his shoulders and helped the now shaking boy up to his feet. He avoided eye contact like it was a form of evil, the concrete a much more welcoming than the surely angry look that would radiate from the stranger. He grabbed his stuff before muttering a short "I'm sorry" and focused on moving his feet. To his surprise, though, a large, shaggy white dog blocked his way, forced to look up at the owner, he was sure his face matched his red hair.

"No, not your fault at all. Bear runs so fast that I have issues keeping up, sorry for knocking you down." Gaara managed to shoot a look down at the giant dog who he figured was the one called "Bear", quickly realizing why the he was given such a name. Bear drooled and left no time before rubbing against the redhead's leg and licking the dangling hand.

Gaara pulled his hand back as though he had been bitten, and the boy's laugh echoed in his ears, but it wasn't the laughing he was used to, the mocking, annoying, and distasteful laugh, instead one that was quite pleasant. Confused, he looked over the boy standing in front of him, too young to be out of high school, possibly in Gaara's grade, junior, tall, but then again, Gaara only reached 5'3", most everyone was tall to him, black hair that was loosely pulled into a pony tail, and storm grey eyes that could pierce right through your heart.

"I'm Neji, by the way." The boy snapped Gaara out of his reverie and back down to earth, where he noticed the outstretched hand. He stared at it for a minute before raising his shaking hand. Neji's strong grip on Gaara's hand almost made him wince, and wish to pull it back from the foreign feeling. It wasn't until Neji began once more that Gaara realized he was expected to talk:

"And you are . . ."

"G-Gaara." Annoyed at himself for how weak his voice had sounded as he stuttered, he bit his lip and stared into the laughing of storm colored eyes. He felt his body relax as he pulled back his hand and felt a tug on his leg from where the leash from Bear wrapped itself around his leg. After freeing himself, the dog tugged at his leash, whining, making it obvious that he wanted to continue his walk. Neji smiled and waved before taking off down the street after Bear.

**:o:**

After surviving the routine trip to the park, Gaara took off his bag and camera, setting it down in the green as though it were made of glass, before letting the energy leave his legs and allowing him to tumbling to the soft bed nature had made for him below. Smelling the fresh air, free from the smog of the city, and letting the blades tickle his skin, he basked in the oasis this place had given him.

He closed his sleep deprived eyes and listened to the sounds of the park, birds chirping, the soft breeze rustling the trees, the distanced street noise, and the sounds of children playing on the swingset.

"I bet I can make it across the monkey bars before you can!"

"I bet you can't!"

_I bet._

Gaara shot up from his bed of green, eyes wide and sweat threatening to pour from his face. His breathing became hard and came out in short tight breaths. He pulled his knees to his chest rocked himself back and forth.

_It was all just a game._

He couldn't stop the shaking that ran through his body.

_Just a simple bet._

He covered his mouth with his hand, biting his finger to stop the scream.

_I bet._

Running his hands through his hair, he forced his breathing to slow, and closed his eyes.

_I won't loose this bet._

He had to stay calm, opening his eyes, he looked for something relaxing, something to ease his nerves. He wouldn't let the other take over.

Looking through the green, he found the relaxing item and focused on it. A boy laid out on his back, sprawled about in the blades of green. His dog curled up next to him, the boy resting his head in the shaggy mane. After a few deep breaths, Gaara ran a hand through his red hair and smiled as he realized that his other hadn't taken control.

Pulling his sketchbook out of the bag, he rested it on his knee and took a pencil in hand. Intent on drawing the scene that had kept him sane, he frowned as he realized who it was he was planning on drawing. Loose black hair and a lean, tall figure with a shaggy dog next to him rang two names through his mind: Neji and Bear.

After his moment of hesitation, he continued to draw, despite knowing those he had planned to put on paper. He figured Neji'd never see it anyways and he still owed them at the very least a drawing for keeping him who he was.

Gaara didn't know how long he sat there; he had a tendency to forget time when he was creating. He started off with his 2B sketch pencil, making soft outlines, turning shapes into figures, and figures into a human laying on his dog. He noted that his model didn't move, he determined that he must have fallen asleep, his dog, too. Instead of whipping out his tilda blending tool of wrapped paper, he decided to try something new. Pulling out his ebony pencil, perfect for shading in all tones, he crosshatched shadows with different values to give a textured look instead of smooth blending.

Looking up once more, he frowned as he noticed his model was no longer there. He could have been gone for at least a half hour and Gaara was so into his work that he wouldn't have noticed if he left. Shifting and sitting back, eyes scanning the finished product, he wasn't thrilled, but it wasn't bad.

"Damn, you're good."

Gaara jumped to his feet and turned away to face a storm eyed brunette. His eyes were wide with shock before a blush overcame his features and he looked away. He didn't realized he had wrapped his sketchbook in his arms to shield it from wandering eyes.

"Can I see?" Neji reached out for the sketchbook and Gaara hesitated before handing over the oversized sketchbook. Gaara tried to avoid eye contact, embarrassed by the sudden attention. "Where did you learn to draw like this?"

"I-I taught myself . . ." Gaara bit his lip, he hated talking, he couldn't stop stuttering and he could express what he was trying to say through his artwork with less effort.

"Wow, you did a great job of me and Bear, looks so real."

Gaara hated compliments, he didn't receive many and the ones he did, he didn't know how to respond, so he simply didn't. After a few seconds, he was shot another question, "Why'd you draw us anyways?"

Gaara paused and thought before answering, "I-I don't know, I j-just did."

"Hmm, cool." Neji handed him back his sketchbook and Gaara was glad to have something to hold onto to stop the shaking of his hands. "Well, I've got to go, I hope to see you around, though. Maybe I'll see some of your art, too."

As Neji turned to leave with a small wave, Gaara heard a sound erupt from himself, "You can have it, if you want." Before he knew what he was doing, he tore the page out, careful not to rip it, but frowning at the frills from the spiral. He brought it up to Neji and handed it to him before turning around, picking up his belongings, and taking off, leaving a speechless Neji in his wake.

**:o:**

_Maybe he didn't want the picture._ Gaara walked down the road, spaced out and thinking about the events that had unfolded. He scolded himself mentally and was about to die in the agony of what he had done. _I shouldn't have given it to him, he didn't want it. Why did I do that to him? He'll just throw it away, it wasn't that good anyways, he was probably just trying to make me feel better. I look like someone who should be pitied – maybe I am. I'm so stupid._

Gaara looked up from his feet towards the sky, sighing. After a deep breath, he let his eyes wonder and frowned as he realized, he had no idea where he was. He didn't know how long he had been wandering, being stuck in his own little world, but from the setting sun, he guessed a long time. The shadows beginning to loom over everything, he made it to the end of the alley he had somehow entered, surprised to see a man sitting at the corner, cups in one hand and a marble in the other.

"Come on up, make a bet! Find the marble under the cups after I spin them around!" His smile reached his eyes as the redhead approached, but it wasn't the voice of Gaara that answered.

"Yes, I'd like to make a bet."

**:o:**

Well, that's it for this chapter, I was hoping to make it longer, but I was really no liking how this chapter was going, it's all blagh . . . Oh well, Until Next Time . . .

**:ATTENTION:**

The ezine I work for, Insidious Reflections, will be finally moving from an ezine to an officialprint magazine as of October 1st, 2005,with Issue 4! After two years of work, we're almost in print, just a couple of months, and we'll have accomplished almost every writer's dream!

**www. Insidious Reflections .com**

Where Sanity Lies Barren and Madness Pens a Twisted Tale . . .


	3. Thrill of Flight

Disclaimer: I kidnapped the whole Naruto cast and now have them tied up in my room! (hidden in the closet so the parental units don't walk in and wonder why I have guys tied up in my room) They are all mine and never will they be anyone else's!

Okay, so I lied, Naruto's still not mine . . . but I can dream, right?

**-Split-**

**Chapter Three**

The pounding in the back of Gaara's skull brought the redhead teen from the depths of the ocean he had subconsciously been submerged into. Hands held to his head, fingers running circles through his shocking red hair in an attempt to sooth the ache that refused to reside. Opening his eyes as to figure out where he was and why he had such pain blasted through his head, he winced as the harsh rays of morning sunlight pierced his vision. A groan immited from his throat as he tried to feel his legs; satisfied that they were still attached to him, he stretched them out.

After regaining control of his weary body, Gaara took in his surroundings. He was sitting on an old park bench, the splintering wood scratching his bare skin. Surprised that his skin was showing at all, he noted he was not in the clothes he remembered. His baggy jeans and long black sleeved shirt had been exchanged for a zip up sleeveless vest that was too short and black jeans that were too low, and tucked into thick boots. Gaara let a sigh escape as he realized in relief that there was a type of black band decorated in flames that covered his arms from the elbow to the wrist. It was only August, so the weather wasn't bone chilling, but a shiver did run down his spine from the lack of clothing that failed in providing enough warmth.

For a minute, a thought escaped him and his eyes flew like a madman around the bench searching for his camera and mailbag. Upon finding them under the bench, he wrapped his arms around it as a mother would her child.

Looking around, it took only a split second for Gaara to realize that he was in the park, not the city park he visited on a regular basis, but the park by the casino. Curses running through his head, Gaara reached into his pant pocket and pulled out a wad of paper – some were just little pieces of paper that had been torn off of brochures or notebooks with little messages written in a handwriting he had seen a couple times before and the rest was green paper. He counted $200. He bit his lip and wished to return every bill to its rightful owner, but had no idea where to do so.

After separating the bills, he gathered up the pieces of random paper and was ready to shove them into his pocket when one caught his attention. It looked like a page torn off a small calenderer or day planner. Three days were marked off, and the one that followed the line was circled. The eighteenth had been crossed out, along with the nineteenth and twentieth – the twenty-first, on the other hand, was circled and chicken scratch handwriting filled in the small box.

_First day of school. Have fun._

One word filled and rebounded off the insides of his head that could explain the whole situation through Gaara's eyes: _SHIT! _

Swooping his mailbag and camera into his arms, Gaara flung himself off the bench and without pausing to recollect himself, broke out into a sprint. He ran through the park, knowing where he was going for having visited countless numbers of times, towards the exit. He passed a handful of people sleeping on the ground, on benches, or even in trees, but came to a halt as he came within a foot of trampling an old man in the middle of his path.

The man looked up at him with war-worn eyes and struggled to stand up. Gaara had been afraid to touch him and let the old man get to his feet on his own despite the struggle the man was showing. Once on his feet and staring down a nervous redhead, he lifted a white haired eyebrow.

"I-I'm s-sorry sir, c-could you t-tell me what d-day it is?" Gaara felt his face go hot and his eyes scanned the ground.

"Well, good morning to you, too, Sonny. I think it's the twenty-first . . . Monday . . . that's right, Monday the Twenty-First." The old man rubbed his aged beard and smiled at Gaara who stammered out another question.

"D-do you know what time it is?"

"Well, my watch always says 3 O'clock, but judging from the sun, I'd say eight or so."

Gaara bit his lip and mumbled a thank you before dashing off towards the entrance to the park once more. Before he made it to the park entrance, he was breathing hard, but he had no time to stop and take a breath. He exited the park, but continued to follow the main road, eyes scanning for a burst of yellow. Spotting it, he waved down the taxi and told the driver to take him to Konoha High. (unoriginal, yes, but I was at a loss)

Sitting in the back seat, staring at the gum that was sticking to the back of the driver's seat, he had more than enough time to think about how Itachi would mutilate him if he missed the first day of school. Glancing through the seats to see the time, he bit his lip to the point of drawing blood at seeing 8:30; school had started at 8:15.

Reaching into his pocket, he found a wadded piece of paper that he recognized as his school schedule. He frowned, though, at the comments and doodles that scattered the page, the same handwriting as what he found on the calendar page. The other who wrote on it was not that great of an artist, stick people seemed to be his forte. He saw one of the little men with a gun pointed at another with a silly impression of fear and the gun wielder with an immense grin. Above the two characters were the scratchy words "violence in school". Other pictures followed in suit and various quotes that he didn't bother to read. His other being was disturbing.

After reading the first line, he shoved the paper back into his pocket, not wishing to see the doodles again. As he looked out the window, he noted that his school was in sight. The green digital clock stated 8:40.

Pulling out a wad of money, he readied what looked to be $20 and shoved it at the driver before flinging himself out the car. As soon as his feet hit pavement, he made a mad dash to the two large entrance doors of the school. Pushing them open and charging down the halls without a second look to his surroundings, it didn't take long before he ran into someone.

Books and papers flying everywhere, Gaara cringed as he heard his camera hit the tile. Landing hard with his eyes squeezed shut, he didn't notice his knees had reached his chest and his forearms shielded his face. After a few seconds of silence, the redhead opened the eyes he never realized he had closed. Blinking a few times, he lowered his arms to see the person before him.

The blonde boy, clad in shocking orange clothes, seemed to writhe on the ground in agony. He groaned, rubbing his backside, and muttering curses about everything from the cold tiles to it being too early. Situating himself, Gaara untied the mailbag from where it had wrapped itself around his neck, and got to his knees. Without bothering to stand to reach the blonde who laid staring at the ceiling not two feet in front of him, Gaara crawled to his side and looked down at him with questioning green eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. A-are you alright?" Gaara was taken aback as the blank blue orbs flashed and a grin reached across his face. Moving from his laying position, the blonde sat up and stretched, leaving a questioning redhead to just stare.

"Mah, mah, no brain damage from the looks of it. I guess I'll live. How's about you?" The blue orbs shot a look over to Gaara and paused with a skeptical look. Remembering just what his other half dressed him in, a blush spread across his pale cheeks, arms covering his stomach, and he surprised himself when he heard his voice stutter, "I-I'm f-fine."

"Oh, by the way, I'm Naruto." He held out his hand and Gaara hesitated before meeting it with his shaking grip.

"G-Gaara." Whipping his hand back as soon as possible, he felt much better to have his personal space back.

"Oh, dude . . ." Naruto's voice drifted and Gaara followed his eyes to a heap of metal on the ground. "Is that yours?"

The redhead bit his lip as he remembered that he had not slung it around his neck for being in such a hurry. Tears stung his eyes, but he took a deep breath and held it to stop the water from escaping his eyes, yet the urge to let them fall was still there. It was his only camera, he couldn't afford another anytime soon. He was so klutzy, so stupid.

Nodding, he scooped up the metal pieces, careful not to forget any of them. Looking at the jagged edges of the broken pieces, he thought that he might be able to put it back together – he knew it was a false hope.

"Jeez, I'm so sorry for running into you like that . . . Maybe I could help you buy a new one?" Naruto scratched the back of his head and looked down at the redhead with a questioning gaze.

"N-no, it's okay, it's not your fault. It's my fault. I-I wasn't w-watching where I was running. I-I'll fix it. It's my fault. I'm sorry." Gaara lowered his head, "I-I have to get to class. I'm sorry."

Turning on his heal, Gaara started down the hall and felt a small smile tug at his lips as he heard the blonde squeak, "Shit! Me, too!"

As he read the number on the door, he looked over the schedule in his shaking hands, this was it: Geometry, Room 239, Morino Ibiki. Knocking on the door soft enough to make an audible sound without obnoxious banging, he twisted the door handle and allowed himself in. Arms concealing his stomach the best he could while holding the broken camera, he bit his lip and looked around for the teacher. He was taken aback when the only adult in the room was clad in a military uniform.

"Young man, don't just stand there! State your name and purpose." The scars lacing the man's face and the piercing glare made the redhead question which made him wish to shrink away more, the teacher or the smirks and looks of pity that escaped from the rows of seats in the small classroom.

"I-I'm K-Kaze G-Gaara. I-I'm in this c-class. I'm sorry f-for being l-late." The teacher's gaze sent a look begging for an explanation. Careful not to look at the class, attention on his feet, Gaara paused before stuttering, "I-I got l-lost."

"For thirty minutes?" A skeptical look was turned to the boy.

"I'm sorry." Gaara found his feet very exciting.

Mr. Morino raised an eyebrow, "New?" Gaara only nodded instead of surrendering to his stuttering response. It wasn't a lie, it was Gaara's first day as a student of this Konoha High, but he had been in the school before for freshman orientation, even though he was a sophomore, he wanted to know where he was going beforehand. It was also true he got lost, though it wasn't in this school – he was lost at how he got to the park in the first place, though he had a pretty good idea.

Gaara watched as the military man took out a clipboard and pointed to a seat in the back. Without any feeling except the wish to disappear from the stares that surrounded him, he reached his seat, thankful that the eternity of unwanted acknowledgement was over, even if in reality it only took five minutes at the most. Setting his mailbag by his feet and his camera on the small workspace, he wedged himself into the small area between the chair and connected desk.

Seeing the small jagged pieces fall from his hands and land with the touch of a butterfly, he felt hot tears sting his eyes. He bit his lip hard enough to feel blood forming in his mouth and he raised his shaking hands to figure where each piece fit. He knew he couldn't afford another and this had been his only means of photography. Gaara pressed the side button, hoping it was still in working order, and sighed as his disk popped out of the camera. His memory card was intact and he was grateful that at least the pictures he had taken beforehand were safe – or so he hoped. His other had control of him for three days, he knew that it was still up in the air as to whether or not his pictures were safe. And he had no one to blame but himself.

Gaara almost flew out of his chair as he felt something touch his shoulder. He raised his arms to cover his face, but stopped short as he saw a bewildered boy staring at him. Forcing his hands back down into his pockets where they groped at bunched cloth from his pants to keep him from repeating an engrained habit, he tried not to look frightened as he recognized the storm eyed boy in front of him.

Thunderstruck, he managed to stutter out, "N-Neji?"

"Hey, you remember my name!" Neji laughed with a hushed voice. When he didn't hear a reply, his eyes lost their laughter and he nodded towards the camera. "What happened?"

"I-I dropped it."

"Bummer. You going to get a new one?"

"N-no, I can't a-afford it." Before Neji could open his mouth to reply, Gaara was caught off guard by the booming voice of Mr. Morino.

"Gaara, Neji! May I ask what your enthralling conversation was about?" He stood with his hands behind his back and a no-funny-business air about him.

Gaara shrank into his seat and muttered an, "I'm sorry."

Neji, on the other hand, stared him into the eye and without wavering in his voice replied, "I'm sorry, Sir. My fault, I was trying to catch Gaara up on what he had missed."

Gaara had to close his mouth shut with his fist and pray that it didn't fall again. He was amazed at how Neji had managed to lie to the teacher's face, look him in the eye and not turn away while the words rolled off his tongue – without stuttering. Despite this, after they had been dismissed by the military man, Gaara did not turn to talk to Neji again, in fear of getting him in trouble.

He emptied the front pocket of his mail bag, which was filled with random papers that had not been there three days ago, and replaced them with the broken camera pieces. Shoving the papers in his pocket without looking at them, despite the thick black markings and words distributed over various colored paper that no one could have missed. Now was not the time to read them – people were too close.

Pulling out a pencil and twiddling it in his fingers, Gaara eyed the scabs on his knuckles. There was no more red showing, just the brown that created a high contrast on his pale skin. Shoving his pencil between his teeth, he ran his fingers over the scabs and winced, hoping no one had saw him. He remembered the black eye and other scabs he had, and that he might have more from the past three days-he couldn't be sure. Biting his lip, he let thoughts run through his head about how horrible he must look and how others must be viewing him. Scars, scabs, skimpy clothing, dark circles under his eyes and a tattoo on his forehead - this was merely the first day in this new hell and to others, he would be their new demon to be avoided, feared, and jeered at.

**:o:**

The morning went without any other interesting moments until lunch came where he sat on the furthest table, in the furthest corner from where everyone was gathering to meet with friends, old or new. Not expecting anyone to join him, and not particularly wanting anyone, too, either, he didn't bring out his sketchbook in fear that people would be looking over his shoulder and he didn't take out his camera for fear of bursting out in tears. Instead, he whipped out the pile of papers from his pocket that his other had left with him.

Smoothing them out first, he organized them, the smallest in front, but the biggest catching his attention the most. He hated the puzzles the "Puppet Master", as he called himself, left with him, but as he had also learned, you couldn't ignore them. Pulling out a random piece of paper, he was entrapped in the words as soon as they leapt into his sight.

_There is one who remembers the way to your door: Life you may evade, Death you shall not._

He lost track of time as the words ran circles in his head. He knew there was more to be read, a riddle or two had been seen in the past, quotes, and drawings, all important and had to be read, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the chicken scratch.

He was ready to pounce three feet out of his chair when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Bringing his arms to shield his face and mentally cursing the reflex, he looked over to see who it was that invaded his personal space. He took a note of that he needed to form a bubble of some sorts here – people didn't understand personal space in the very least.

The redhead smirked as he looked at her with the eyes of a frightened animal. "Name's Tayuya."

"G-Gaara."

"I was wondering if you wanted to come up to the roof with me and a couple of my friends. It'll be a blast – much better than this fucking cafeteria." Chains dangled off her clothes and hit the bench with a small clink.

"Tayuya, don't talk like that, it's not very lady-like." The large man behind her commented – Gaara sent a raised eyebrow to the Mohawk.

"Shut the fuck up, Jiroubou! I'll talk however I fucking feel like talking." She shot a glare in his direction and he slumped his shoulders in defeat. Turning back to the redhead who stared like a deer caught in headlights, she smirked and edged him on, "So come on, what do you say?"

Gaara shoved the papers into his pocket hoping they hadn't seen them and inched away from them, worrying that if he scooted too far away that he'd fall off the bench that was connected to the table. "N-no, I-I can't. I'm sorry."

She raised an eyebrow, "Why not?"

Gaara hung his head in shame, "I-I'm a-afraid of h-heights. I'm sorry."

"Aw, is that all?" Tayuya burst out into a grin, "I promise not to let you fall!" She grabbed his wrist and pulled him away from the table – wincing from the contact and reaching back for his bag, he bit his lip stuttering whispering "No"s.

"Jiroubou! Get his fucking bag, come on, we're missing lunch!"

Gaara tried to pull out of his grasp, but her fingers laced themselves into a knot around his wrist and he couldn't free himself. Looking at Jiroubou with pleading eyes, he watched him shake his head. As they came near the door, the redhead felt his pulse rise and his breathing become shallow. He tried to hang onto the handrail to stop her as they rose up the stairs, but his fingers had become jelly and his tongue heavy in his mouth.

As the door burst open at the top of the stairwell, he only remembered seeing the tops of surrounding buildings, the blue sky stretched before him, and a small group of people welcoming them before his world went black and another's grew color.

**:o:**

The wind in his hair, the blue sky covering him like a blanket and the thrill of the height brought the redhead forward. Taking in his surroundings with deep breaths and closing his eyes for the full effect, he almost missed the girl's voice beside him.

"See? It's not so shitty." The red haired girl's hands were in her pockets he realized she had let him go when she saw he wouldn't run away. She motioned for him to come sit with her and her three friends, but he didn't move.

"You're right, it's not shitty. It's _amazing._"

"Amazing?" She sent a skeptical look his way. "I thought you were afraid of heights."

"Afraid of heights? I could never be afraid of heights! I love it up here."

"Uh, right. Hey, what the hell happened to your stuttering? The height knock it out of you?" She snickered, but the boy didn't even respond to her, instead he continued on.

"Being up here is so thrilling. The idea of attempted flight." He walked to the edge of the building, raising himself to the side railing. His arms were spread in the imitation of wings and his smile reached his eyes, even though they looked as though tears could be flowing from them. "The failure of flight and the fall."

The small group stared up at him with worried looks and this time it was Jiroubou who said something, "Hey, Gaara, how about you get down from there – we don't want you to fall."

The redhead spun on his toe as the others visibly winced praying for him to come down from the thick cement railing. What sounded like a giggle came from him, "Why don't you want me to fall? It'd be amazing! The wind passing you as you came closer and closer to the hell below – but for a few seconds the wind would whip through your hair and you'd have the feeling of flight! The shear thrill is enough to make you beg for more!"

"Gaara, come the fuck down." Tayuya was now backing up Jiroubou, inching closer to the dancing redhead.

Another giggle was sounded, "I'm not Gaara! Gaara would never want to feel the joy of flight!"

They paused before sending in a question, "Who the fuck are you, then?"

"Tema-" But before he could finish, the door was slammed open and an angry stormy eyed boy appeared.

**:o:**

dum, dum dum! That's it for now! Whooooo that was a looooong chapter, and within a week, too! I'm going to try to update once a week with longer chapters like this, too – no guarantees, though. This one's coming out earlier than it originally was intended, though. I'm outta town and wasn't going to have any internet access, but if I sit on the far side of my porch (with an extension cord for my laptop batteries), I get a low internet signal from my neighbors! So thank my neighbors who I've never really met, but have given me the joy of net surfing once again!

I wasn't going to turn this into a highschool fic, but after too much reading other fanfiction, we see what happens . . . first it was a highschool fic, then it wasn't, and then around the beginning of this chapter, it transformed into one . . .

Blagh, I was going to reply to some reviewers, but then I realized how much I suck at it . . . so sorry everyone! If you want a reply, though, email me at stainedglass393 . . . but don't take that the wrong way! I love you all oh so very much:3 Please review . . . the more reviews the higher the chances of Weekly updates with long chapters:D

Until Next Time . . .


	4. Together, we'll fall

I know I said I sucked at this, but there were a few things I wanted to say, so though I suck at replying to reviewers, here are a couple – sorry I'm not doing all of you, even though I love you from the bottom of my heart for reviewing! Cookies for every reviewer! hands out Gaara shaped cookies

**Ebony: **Yeah, originally I was going to have them in college, but then I realized, after researching split personality, it'd be inaccurate cause I have no idea what college is really like . . . but sophomore year – I've done that. And I understand that they can't be living in an apartment by themselves because they are 15-16, but I have a reason for that, which will come up in later chapters. As for a previous question about weither or not I draw, I do a little, I fiddle with it more than anything. If you want to see some of it it's up at (no www.) chibi-okami. Deviantart .com (sorry, had to put the spaces there so FF doesn't freak out on me). Oh, and I'm going to do some more with Tayuya – don't worry :D

**Burning Tree: **it's "Dissociative Identity Disorder" apparently "Multiple Personality Disorder" was inaccurate and they just recently changed the name . . . sadly enough, yeah, I looked it all up cause I thought it sounded cool – which gave me the idea for this story.

Bah, now on with the story!

**-s-p-l-i-t-**

Chapter Four 

Wind whipped through Gaara's red locks as he exited the depths of a dreamless sleep. He heard voices, but the water still covered his ears and the sensation of being in someone else's body filled him. He stared at his storm eyed anchor through fog filled eyes.

"Gaara?" The voice was muffled and the blur of black and white mouth the word again, "Gaara?"

The fog dissipated, revealing the world around him, the wind through his hair, the small area below his feet and the world three stories down. With this realization, his knees shook and he couldn't hold himself up straight. Feeling his stomach lurch, he covered his mouth and didn't know that a small liquid orb trailed its way down his cheek. A whimper escaped his throat as he tried to curl into himself without crumbling onto the small support below him.

"Gaara, what are you doing?" Neji's voice was urgent, but his feet were frozen in place.

Pleading eyes looked up to Neji as a shiver was sent up the redhead's spine. "I-I d-don't k-know. O-oh god. O-h g-god. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I-I'm g-going t-to f-fall. I-I'm g-going to fall. I-I'm going to fall. I'm going to fall!" The shivering boy's voice escalated to measures he didn't know possible.

Without thinking, Neji reached out his hand to the redhead and inched his way closer. "You're not going to fall. It's okay, come down."

"D-don't come over here! Y-you'll fall! W-we'll b-both f-fall." The tears were streaming down his cheeks and he couldn't stop them. Sniffing his nose, he felt the sobs rattle his body.

"Gaara, I won't fall. You won't fall. Give me you're hand." Neji kept his voice smooth, not letting it crack and show his false assurance. He stepped forward once more, but was stopped by the scream that escaped the boy.

"NO! Stay away!" Gaara's hands left his stomach and mouth to reach his head and pull at his hair. "I-I d-don't want you to fall! I DON'T WANT YOU TO FALL!"

"I won't fall, Gaara." Neji regained his composure and came a step closer, close enough to touch the quivering redhead, but instead, continued to hold his hand out. "Come down. You won't fall, I won't fall."

"YES YOU WILL! M-mom f-fell! S-she f-fell! Y-You'll f-fall, too! I-I won't let you fall! STAY AWAY!" Gaara's hands flew from the top of his head outward towards Neji, shoving him back with enough force to send the boy's braced figure back a few steps, and himself off balance.

The seconds passed in a blur, he felt his stomach leap as he tumbled backwards, arms flailing for something to solid to hold onto, but finding nothing. He heard his name being called out and something warm embracing him, but it wasn't until he sat on the cold cement with the railing to his back did he realize what had happened.

"Gaara, are you alright? Gaara?" He heard Neji's voice call him, but he couldn't stop shaking or the sobs from flowing long enough to answer. Instead he clung to his source of comfort and sobbed into his shirt.

Neji rocked him back and forth, running his fingers through the redhead's hair and rubbing circles in his back in an effort to sooth him. Picking up the boy and taking him further from the rail, he frowned at how easy it was. The kid needed to eat, he could almost feel every rib. Taking him through the small crowd of silent onlookers, he set the sobbing boy down next to the door. Neji waved the others to leave, and three of the four inched their way out the door, sending worried looks to the redhead. Neji continued to comfort him before asking the girl what happened.

"Fuck, I don't know!" Tayuya snapped. "We asked him to come up to lunch with us, he said he was scared of heights and I dragged him anyways. Once we got up here, he just became a fucking 'nother person! Went over to that rail and was talking about what sounded suicidal and shit, then you came and he just crumbled."

Neji shot a confused look to the crying boy who was starting to calm down, "Well, I don't know what to do now."

"Oh, so you can get a fucking suicidal kid off the railing, but you don't know what the hell to do with him afterwards?" Tayaya spat, and Neji shot her a fierce glare.

"No, I don't know what to do with him, but we can't leave him alone, and I can't skip class." Neji noticed how Gaara had stopped crying but shaking still racked his body. "Lunch will be over soon."

"Three minutes to the bell." Tayuya glanced at her watch through the numerous bracelets on her hand. "Should we take him to the councilor?"

"N-no!" Gaara had finally found his voice. "D-don't t-tell them! T-they'll send m-me back!"

"Back where?" Tayuya raised an eyebrow.

"T-to the h-home. I-I don't w-want to go b-back. P-please d-don't tell anyone!" Gaara's eyes were wide and he teeth started chattering along with his stutter.

Neji ran a hand through his hair and sighed looking down into the green orbs, "We'll see. I can't promise anything right now. Do you think you can make it to your next class?"

"I-I think so." With his response, the bell rang.

"Damn." Neji cursed his luck and helped the redhead to his feet. Letting him stand on his own, he witnessed the boy shake under his own weight. Taking a step, the boy faltered and Neji grabbed his arm, "You're not going to make it to your next class. You need to go to the nurse."

"N-no! I-I'm fine, r-really, I am!" He waved his arms in an attempt to show he was okay, but his wild eyes betrayed him.

It was at that moment the bell decided to ring.

"Goddamn it." Neji sighed and once again ran his fingers through his hair. "If you aren't going to make it to your next class and you're not going to go to the nurse, you're only option is to skip – _on the first day of school._"

Gaara hung his head, "I'm sorry. I-I'll g-go to my n-next c-class."

"We won't have you fucking passing out in the middle of it." Tayuya spat and turned to Neji, "You can't stay with him?"

"No, they'll kick me off the team – I have to go _now._" His twitching fingers were itching to reach for the door.

"Well, then, fucking go already!"

"But Gaara-" He never got to finish the sentence.

"_I'll _fuckingwatch Gaara! Just fucking go already!" She made a hand motion towards the door when he paused. With the little push, he turned and stepped towards the door, muttering a thanks.

With Neji gone, Tayuya sighed and dropped to the ground beside Gaara who stared through the cement. Seeing his forlorn look, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and had the urge to pull back when she felt him flinch, but held her ground and pulled him into her. "You'll be okay, kid. You'll be fucking okay."

He bent forward so that she couldn't see his face and she felt the need to rub circles in his back, surprised at how he was thin enough she could draw a complete outline of his spine. They sat in silence for a few seconds before she felt him quiver and heard a sniff escape him.

"Hey, hey, now. It'll be okay. It'll be okay." She tried to soothe the distraught teen, but unable to keep from thinking about what could have made him this way.

"N-no, I-it's n-not. I-I'm making y-you skip class. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." His voice started as a whisper and died into silence.

"Hey, now, don't worry about it. Hell, it's my fault for bringing you up here. I shouldn't have. I'm the one who's sorry." She felt her voice soften and fall into a low soothing tone.

Gaara jerked up from his crumbled position to look her in the eyes, shock lining all of his features. "N-no! I-it's not your fault a-at all! I-I c-couldn't control her . . ." The boy sank back, his cheeks rubbing his knees.

Tayuya raised an eyebrow, "Control her?"

"P-promise n-not to tell a-anyone?" Gaara bit his lip, feeling she had the right to know, but unsure about his actions.

"Yeah, kid, I promise." She felt Gaara relax.

"S-she w-who came out . . ." The boy paused and Tayuya felt this could take a while, she knew she had the time, but wondered about the patience. "T-temari . . . s-she t-takes o-over . . . t-the o-others do, t-too . . . I-I d-don't know w-what happens . . . I-I j-just w-wake up and . . . d-don't know what's g-going on . . ."

Tayuya waited for more, but when he didn't continue after a few agonizing minutes, she decided that it was her turn for a question, "Shouldn't you see a shrink for that?"

Gaara tightened the ball he created of himself, "I-I d-did. T-they thought I w-was b-better."

"Well, fucking obviously not."

"N-no. I-I feel her p-pull on m-me now. I-I don't k-know h-how long I-I can hold her b-back." When Tayuya raised an eyebrow, he continued. "S-she r-really likes h-heights."

The girl looked around – they were still on the roof with the towering buildings surrounding them. Without even looking around, the sir in her air told her they were up high. Her eyes found their way back to Gaara, who never looked from the pavement.

"Well, that being the case, we'd better get you off the fucking roof. I don't think I could put up with this "Temari" character again. Scared the shit outta me the first time." She stood up and held her hand down to Gaara to help him up. He looked at the appendage through his raised arms to protect his head for a minute before his eyes lit up, realizing what it was for. His shaking hand met with hers and she pulled him up to his feet.

"T-thanks."

"Well, where to?" She asked, brushing her pants off.

"W-we c-could go t-to my apartment. I-it's not f-far." He wrapped his arms around his middle, unsure of himself and feeling very insecure.

"Cool." Tayuya pulled the door open for Gaara to head toward the stairs and she could see him breathe a sigh of relief. "And on the way, we'll work on that stutter of yours."

**:o:**

GAH! I'm SORRY! It's short and late! I'm so horrible! But I have an excuse – the hard drive at work crashed and I've been putting in overtime, I'm sorry! Blame the professional computer programmers, not me! They broke it! I'm just kicking around the after effects.

So I'm really sorry about this being late, but I'm going outta town for a week and will have plenty of time to write, so I promise a good, long chapter by the end of next week. Sorry this one was rushed, but I wanted to send you something before I left.

Don't be afraid to review!

So Until Next Time . . .


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